


Pseudoscience

by heartswells



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Alluring Radio Hosts, Gorgeous Scientists, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-19
Updated: 2017-09-19
Packaged: 2018-12-31 13:09:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12133182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartswells/pseuds/heartswells
Summary: [AU where Carlos is a barista pursuing his master’s degree in Chemistry, and Cecil is the creator of a cryptic online radio show.]Cecil asked that question with every full moon. Carlos had found that Cecil was full of arcane patterns, but he had found no logical reasoning to any of them. He was a human pseudoscience, like something supernatural, and yet Carlos found himself more infatuated and less perturbed with every little discovery.





	Pseudoscience

**Author's Note:**

> in case you aren't a coffee snob, espresso shots are highly concentrated shots of coffee! ♡
> 
>  

He drank espresso as if it was coffee: seven shots of rich, sonorous espresso that washed over the tongue in a steaming, bitter gust. The shots streamed into the cup and gathered in a pool as menacing and dark as the void, waiting to kiss Cecil’s lips as he strewed a mess of indecipherable papers at the bar table. At precisely 10:30 pm each day, he arrived to baffle Carlos and sip his bitter poison without ever faltering from his smile.

 

Carlos had quickly learned that Cecil’s drink was nothing but a mirror of who he was: daring, sharp, cryptic, and electrifying. 

 

“You’ve been working too much,” Cecil hummed, leaning forward on his elbows as he watched Carlos fiddle with a broken French Press. Carlos wasn’t quite sure what was wrong with it, and it was quite possible that his mind had invented a nonexistent problem in order to entertain him, sending him into a fruitless mission.

 

“We’ve been over this, Cecil. I don’t have time to  _ not _ work. I’m pursuing my master’s degree. There’s no time for anything else.”

 

“Even then, you wouldn’t rest. You don’t know how to.” Cecil sighed and grinned at him with an emotion Carlos could never quite identify. 

 

Cecil found Carlos’ refusal to rest worrisome, but his frazzled, dedicated self was too beautiful for Cecil to ever call flawed. He was a picturesque scientist-romance dream that broke and healed his heart with every meeting. 

 

“What is it you’re hoping to find?” 

 

Cecil asked that question with every full moon. Carlos had found that Cecil was full of arcane patterns, but he had found no logical reasoning to any of them. He was a human pseudoscience, like something supernatural, and yet Carlos found himself more infatuated and less perturbed with every little discovery.

 

“We have been over this, Cecil. I am studying chemistry for the purpose of understanding natural creation.” 

 

He sighed, for to him, this answer was obvious and straightforward, but Cecil’s abtruse mind could not be sated by such a depthless answer.

 

“Ah, but creation is all that we are, dear Carlos. Have you not ever dreamed in your sleep? Creation is unknown. We are not mere science. Carlos.”

 

Once upon a time, Carlos had found Cecil an eager listener who contained nothing but exclamations of “oh!” and “neat!” when they spoke. Now, he was filled with esoteric speech, questions with incomprehensible justifications, and bafflingly unscientific replies. 

 

“So what is it that you really seek? Surely, your heart believes there is something to be found, something that you may not know that you do not yet know.” 

 

Carlos swiped Cecil’s empty mug from the counter top, shaking his head in exasperation.

 

“You should show me what chemistry is some time,” Cecil ventured. Carlos glanced up to see Cecil's eyes upon him, again wide with that emotion that Carlos could not pin.

 

“I could show you the lab one night after my shift if you’d like,” he replied. 

 

“Oh, really? How neat!”

 

Carlos stifled a smirk. There was that word again.

 

“When? Tomorrow?” Cecil’s excitement was so abrasive it was near begging, but it was also so heartfelt that it was contagious, and Carlos found himself beaming as well.

  
  



End file.
